The Tragedy of Enobizaka
by Hitomi Shirou
Summary: Basically Hetaliafied version of 'The Tailor Shop on Enobizaka' from the 'lover's point of view.


**Author Commentary;** I know that this has been done before, but I wanted to do one too, but from the family's point of view. So here's 'The Tailor Shop on Enobizaka', Hetalia style, from the 'lover's point of view. Enjoy!

One more thing, I'm switching the colours of the objects to fit the characters and switching the kimono to a dress, the obi to a coat, and the hairpin to a scarf.

**Characters;** France (as the 'lover'), Fem!England (as the wife), Fem!America (as the sister), Fem!Canada (as the daughter), crazy OC (as the tailor)

**Rating;** T for crime

**Warnings;** Murder, angst, NO HAPPY ENDINGS HERE DERP DERP!

**Disclaimer;** I don't own Hetalia, Nyotalia, the countries used, or the Vocaloid song that was the prompt for this.

Francis Bonnefoy considered himself a lucky man. He had a lovely wife by the name of Anne Kirkland and a darling little daughter named Madeline Kirkland-Bonnefoy. He considered his life perfect. Nothing could possibly spoil it.

One day, he and his wife, Anne, decided to take a stroll through the streets of they're small town in the lovely sea-side France.

"You look beautiful in that green dress." Francis said.

"Thank you." Anne said, running a hand down the length of the skirt of the dress. It had been a recent gift from Francis, and it looked beautiful on her. The shade of green brought out her eyes perfectly.

Francis smiled and leaned down to kiss his lovely wife, unaware of someone watching them.

That night, as Francis tucked Madeline into bed, Anne came to the door, "Francis, I'm going to step out for a minute. I forgot to pick up some Earl Grey tea while we were downtown. I'll only be a minute."

"Be careful." Francis said.

Anne rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss Francis, "It's such a small town, what could happen?"

Francis chuckled and straightened the front of Anne's dress for her, "You're right. How silly of me."

Anne chuckled lightly and left the room, but not before giving her daughter a hug and a kiss goodnight.

Three hours later, Francis waited nervously at the window of the small house he owned with Anne. Anne still hadn't returned from the store, and Francis was becoming increasingly worried. What if something really had happened to her? But that was crazy, it was such a small town, what could happen? Francis tried to convince himself of this fact, but as the hours dragged on, he only worried more. When a car pulled into the driveway and two police officers stepped out, Francis felt a ball of dread sink into his stomach. Quickly, he ran to open the door.

"Can I help you officers?" he asked at the door.

The older officer stepped up to him and took off his hat, his younger partner doing the same behind him, "Sir, we regret to inform you that thirty minutes ago, your wife was found murdered behind the general store. We are deeply sorry."

Francis felt his entire world shatter in a mere instant. Anne? His lovely Anne? Murdered? Why? By who?

The next few hours past in a daze. Before he knew it, Anne's sister, Allison, who lived in America, was beside him. She tugged him up and out of the chair he'd been in since last night.

"Come on." she said, "Let's go for a walk."

Francis let himself be led out of the house, his gaze fixed on Allison's pretty red coat. It really suited her. After a few minutes of walking, they found themselves at the old bridge.

"How are you feeling?" Allison asked quietly.

Francis took a deep, shuddering breath, "My wife was murdered. How do you think a I feel?"

Allison smiled sadly, and rubbed his back with her shoulder, "I know, it's so hard. But I'll be here for as long as you need me."

Francis managed a weak smiled back, "Thank you Allison." he said.

She smiled a little more, even though she had bags under eyes, then she looked down into the water, thinking hard, "I just don't understand why someone would kill Anne just to take her dress. It doesn't make any sense."

They stayed like that way for a while. Francis decided it was time to leave when he kept getting the feeling of being watched.

That night, Francis held his little girl in his arms, trying to get her to sleep. Allison was out in the back yard, tending to the flowers that Anne had so lovingly grown.

"I want Mommy to come tuck me in. I haven't seen her all day. Where is she?" Madeline asked, wide violet eyes staring up into her father's blue ones.

Francis stifled a sob, "I'm very sorry, but Mommy can't come home anymore."

"Why?"

Francis stroked her hair, "She just can't. I'll tell you when your older."

Madeline huffed and wiggled out of her father's arms, "If you won't tell me, I'll go find Aunty Ally. She always tells me." she said, running off to the back yard, calling for her aunt.

"Madeline!" Francis called after her. He chased her down, but didn't manage to catch up to her until they were in the back yard. Madeline was crouched over Allison, who was sprawled on the ground.

Madeline looked back at Francis, "Papa, Aunty Ally won't wake up."

Francis felt sick. Allison lay on her back, her throat slit open and her blood seeping into the earth below her. Just like Anne had been killed. But instead of Allison's dress missing, her pretty red coat was gone. Wordlessly, Francis scooped up Madeline and ran back into the house, tears streaming down his face. His wife, and now her sister. How mach more could go wrong? As he thought this, he gripped Madeline, the only thing he had left in the world, tightly to his chest.

All throughout the next day, the two of them were locked out of their house while the forensics team worked to find the killer. Francis held tightly to Madeline's tiny hand, as though afraid she would be ripped untimely from him as well. Madeline still wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but she understood that something was very wrong. Francis suddenly stopped and pulled her into a small shop.

"Here Madeline." Francis said, wrapping a pretty yellow scarf around her neck, "It's a gift."

Madeline smiled up at her father, "Thanks Papa. It's really pretty."

Francis smiled and patted her head. He paid for the scarf and left the store, catching a flash of silky hair as a woman turned and ran in the opposite direction from them. Francis shook it off and continued to pamper his little girl.

That evening, as they were checking in to the hotel, Francis turned his attention away from Madeline for only a moment. He really shouldn't have hoped for anything when the screams started, but as he turned, he desperately hoped that Madeline was still staring up at him, wondering where her mother and aunt went. What he saw was the body of a little girl, only just starting school, lying dead a few feet from him, pretty yellow scarf missing from her sliced open neck.

Francis didn't even have the energy to cry anymore.

The next day, Francis was wandering around town aimlessly. He had no idea where he was going, or even the slightest clue when he had began to wander. People gave him a wide berth, knowing that this was the man who had lost his wife, sister in law, and daughter all in three days. When he accidentally bumped into something, it served to jolt him from his stupor.

"Oh, I'm sorry." he said to the young girl he'd just knocked over, "I don't believe we've met. It's nice to meet you."

The girl flushed red and ran away before Francis could say anything else. He watched her go for a minute, then resumed his wandering.

Late that night, Francis was still wandering around the town. He turned down an ally, stopping when he saw a young girl ahead of him. It was the same girl from before. She was wearing a lovely green dress, a pretty red coat, and a cute yellow scarf around her neck, all of which were very familiar. Too familiar.

Francis could barely react as the young woman rushed up to him and raised a pair of red stained scissors. As she brought them down, Francis didn't even raise his hands to protect himself; it wasn't worth it anymore.

The last thing he saw before he was welcomed into his family's arms was the face of a crying woman, yelling at him for being a cheating bastard.

**Author commentary;** Ah, it's not that good, but I really wanted to write something for this song.


End file.
